


For the Birds

by gracieluu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Good Slytherins, M/M, Marauders, Ravenclaw Sirius Black, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Slytherin James Potter, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Snape Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21820897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracieluu/pseuds/gracieluu
Summary: "Slytherin!" The greasy kid from the train watched, dark eyes smug and mocking and everything he never wanted to see staring right back at him. James Potter was a Slytherin, a bloody Slytherin. He didn't think it was dramatic to say this was the worst thing that had ever happened to him, but he had been wrong before.Marauders AU.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin/Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	1. The Mistake

_"Slytherin!"_

It was a mistake.

And a bloody big one at that.

James Potter sat up higher on the rickety stool, hands clenched around the wood as he waited for the other shoe to drop, for the Sorting Hat to let out a fabric muffled chuckle and tell him that it was a mistake and that his world would be righted once again.

When no such sound occurred, he then told himself that he was dreaming. He had made the mistake of going to bed after drinking a spot of tea the night before, anxious for what would come the next day, and was surely vividly living out the nightmare currently unfolding in front of him.

The students in front of him shifted in their spots, perhaps waiting for him to move, to smile, to do anything other than sit there with a gawpy expression on his face.

Oh.

Oh no.

The reality settled in painfully slow.

He turned his head towards the long table at the edge of the room, vision blurring slightly as he was greeted with a wall of green and black. His legs wobbled when he stood up, his stomach turned to mush and his mouth filled with cotton, and he imagined that nothing in his life would ever be as awful as this.

The Hat was lifted off his head and another student's name was called, but James paid very little attention.

He was going to have to tell his parents.

The very idea burned him with even more shame.

The other first years parted to let him pass and not a single one clapped him on the back in congratulations. A few gave him looks of pity, as if knowing how upset he was, but most avoided looking at him. All, except, for the greasy kid from the train.

He watched, dark eyes smug and mocking and everything James never wanted to see staring right back at him.

James Potter was a Slytherin.

A Slytherin.

He didn't think it was dramatic to say that this was truly the worst thing that would ever happen to him. 


	2. The Hatstall

The silence was deafening. If it had been possible for Peter Pettigrew to melt into the floor, he would have, content to slip between the cracks of the fine tiles in the Great Hall and forget the whole messy ordeal had even happened.

He was a Hatstall.

And a bloody long one at that.

The embarrassment burned through him, sharp like a hot knife between his ribs, and he was certain it would be all he was remembered for.

Of all the awful things Peter had imagined happening to him, and he had imagined an awful lot thanks in part to his chronic overactive imagination and a case of crippling anxiety, it had never occurred to him that there might not be a place for him at all. He wondered if it were possible to be turned around at the door, to be sent back to the waiting train with nothing more than an apologetic, if not pitying, smile and several recommendations for how to live life amongst muggles.

The boy he met on the train, Sirius, watched him with his mouth open from the Ravenclaw table. The other boy, James, had been sorted just before him, the misery clear as day as he walked to the Slytherin tables. His face buried in his hands, nothing visible but the wild tufts of black hair that he ran his hands through in an almost compulsive manner.

Peter's own hair, a helmeted mess that made him look like a lumpy gobstone buried deep in the Sorting Hat, was making him sweat. His hands itched to reach up and fix it, to mess up the glue like gel his mother had insisted he wear until it finally looked effortlessly cool. She said it would be smart, like he cared about being there, but all it had achieved was a myriad of mocking looks thrown in his direction from the other kids who knew where they wanted to be and where they belonged.

Perhaps, when they looked at him, they saw that he didn't belong anywhere.

He was not brave.

He had never been clever, or ambitious, or loyal.

They knew it and now the Sorting Hat knew it.

He had thought about which house he wanted. Agonized over it, really, for years. His older sister had been sorted into Slytherin ten years before and had been bragging about it ever since. She was cunning and clever and everything that old Salazar would have wanted from a student.

This was all they would remember him for.

The Hat hummed, a pensive sound that echoed in his mind.

"Gryffindor!"

It didn't register at first. He sat there, waiting, waiting, waiting, until Professor McGonagall lifted the Hat off his head and ushered his shaking body down the steps and towards the table full of his new housemates.

Dinner in the Great Hall was a frenetic and noisy affair and Peter found himself overwhelmed before it had really even begun.

After the sorting was finished, he found solace in the food, piling his plate higher until he could barely see the red-head sitting across him. Barely. He caught sight of her wide green eyes, slightly glassy with all the excitement, staring at him from around a particularly long buttered noodle. Her own plate was scant, not even a leaf of lettuce in sight, and Peter felt a blush creep onto his face the longer she stared at him.

"What's your name?"

Posh.

High class.

Peter felt his blush deepen until he was certain it had found a permanent home on his face.

"Peter," He managed to get out between his bites. His accent felt rough even in his own mouth. He could only imagine what it sounded like to her.

"Peter." She smiled and scooted closer, finally grabbing a little something from the pile of chicken legs. She set them neatly on her plate, positioning them with an almost compulsive precision. "Meaning stone."

"What?"

"Your name. It means stone."

The blank look on his face caused her to backtrack, leaning back in her seat as she busied herself crafting the perfect plate that he really didn't think she was going to touch. She glanced at him occasionally, chagrined and thoroughly embarrassed by his apparent lack of interest in what she was saying.

His desire to sink into the floor increased tenfold.

"What's your name?" He had to practically tear the words from his chest, unaccustomed to talking to someone so very normal.

And female.

And pretty.

"Lily Evans."

Lily. The name suited her- pretty as a flower. The thought embarrassed him further.

Next to him, two of his fellow housemates laughed loudly, bits of food flying from one of their mouths as he threw his head back and practically cackled. The noise added to the already loud meal, making Peter want to shrink even further in on himself. Lily seemed to notice his feelings, a horrifying proposition that Peter would think on for the next several weeks, and leaned forward.

"It's all very exciting, isn't it?"

Exciting was, perhaps, not the word Peter would use. Anxiety inducing? Yes. Daunting in all its possibilities, good and bad? Absolutely. He had spent the better part of the last year going overall the ways coming to Hogwarts could be bad and horrible and possibly ruin his life, but none of those scenarios had included the pretty red-head sitting in front of him.

His sister would laugh at him if she could see him now. Gormless and stuffing his face. The sound of her laugh echoed in his mind before he pushed it away.

"It is," Peter finally managed to say.

"Did you know much about Hogwarts before today?"

"Of course," He said, wondering for a half a moment why she wouldn't have.

And then he realized.

She was muggle-born.

"My friend told me as much as he could." She leaned to the side and waved, a bright smile lighting up her face. Peter followed her gaze, surprised to find her looking at a skinny boy sitting at the Slytherin table. James sat next to him, hair just as black although decidedly cleaner looking, and the perfect picture of a miserable mess. The unnamed boy didn't notice her waving at first, content to throw smug looks sideways at James for the time being. After a moment, he finally looked over at her, peering through a curtain of greasy hair. He managed a small smile and an even smaller wave before he turned back to his dinner.

"I never thought I would be Gryffindor." Lily leaned back, turning her attention back to Peter.

"Me either."

"Neither," Lily said, taking a bite of chicken before she realized he was staring again. "Sorry, it's a hard habit to break. Tuney, my sister, always says people hate it when I do that."

"I don't mind."

Lily visibly relaxed, smiling even brighter at him. "I think we'll be friends, Peter." She said it with such confidence he couldn't help but nod in agreement. "The greatest, in fact."

The mocking laugh of his sister was, mercifully absent, as he scooted closer to the table and listened to Lily as she enthused about the train ride. Sinking beneath the floor lost its luster as he settled into the meal, plate of food all but forgotten. He was determined now. He might be a Hatstall, but Peter Pettigrew was determined to be remembered for something else, something greater. He couldn't shake the feeling that meeting Lily Evans might just be the start of that.


	3. The Disappointment

Sirius Black was awash with disappointment. It was the subtle sort, the kind that started out small before it built into a beast all its own and utterly devoured him. He supposed he should be thankful that it wasn't Hufflepuff, but the blue raven now emblazoned on his chest felt heavier than the lion he had so desperately wanted and he wanted nothing more than to rip it off.

He hung to the back of the group -his new housemates- as they were led out of the Great Hall and towards their house dormitory. He already knew where it was located, having spent every waking moment for the last two weeks reading every book he could on Hogwarts, but the staircase seemed so much steeper in real life.

The prefect led them higher and higher into the belly of the castle, turning left and right and then left and right again, before she stopped in front of a plain door. There was no knob, no latch or keyhole or secret lever, only a large bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. The first years clumped together, excited energy passing between them like a plague. The girl closest to him bounced up and down on her toes, hands clasped together in front of her stomach as she tried to see over the tall boy in front of her.

Sirius watched her, disappointment bubbling up once again, worse than ever.

"To get inside, you have to answer a riddle," The prefect said, holding out her hands in a sweeping motion to hush the excitable group. They all moved closer, crowding each other and the door. Sirius leaned back against the curved wall, a burning feeling settling in his chest. "Who wants to go first?"

He wasn't meant to be here, in this tower so far above the earth and away from what he understood and knew.

He was supposed to be a Gryffindor. It was the only thing shameful enough that his parents would take notice. A little lion amongst snakes, a red son that had once been all he thought about and was now nothing more than a simmering disappointment.

"Alice? How about you?"

The girl next to him let out a small squeak at being singled out. She unclasped her hands and smoothed out her dark hair, compulsively straightening the spiky ends until it laid flat against her head. "Me?"

"Just step up and answer the riddle," The prefect said, taking on an encouraging tone as she coaxed Alice to step to the front of the group. She glanced around her, pausing when she saw Sirius leaning back against the wall. They looked at each other for a moment, Sirius unable to stop the scowl on his face from forming. She turned away from him and stepped through the crowd, motions shaky and hesitant.

The others parted for her, moving to give her just enough space that she could square herself in front of the door to wait.

And wait.

And wait for a little longer as the open-mouthed eagle stared her down.

_What can never talk but will always reply when spoken to?_

The voice floated over them, soft and full of wisdom. It filled the circular stairwell landing, tangling all around them like a warm ribbon.

Alice looked around, blue eyes wide and mouth popped open.

The other first years started to mumble, leaning closer to each other to debate the answer back and forth, as Alice turned back to the door. She squared her shoulders and stepped forward, pale hand outstretched to touch the tip of the eagle's beak. "An echo."

The door creaked open and Sirius got a glimpse of brilliant blue, a crackling heath, and an endless night sky before Alice stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

"Who's next?"

The first years clamored forward, elbowing each other to stand in front of the door and answer their own riddle.

_I am lighter than a feather, yet the strongest man cannot hold me forever. What am I?_

_I have many keys but cannot open a single lock. What am I?_

_I am with you always and follow your every move, but you will never touch me or catch me. What am I?_

One by one his new housemates answered their riddles and disappeared behind the door, the group dwindling down until there were only a few of them left. The warmth of the disembodied voice kept filling the space until Sirius felt sweat spring up on the back of his neck. He stepped back, nearly falling backwards down the stairs.

As if the disappointment of being a Ravenclaw wasn't already burning a hole straight through him, he realized, standing there and watching them all answer the riddles with ease, that he was also destined to be a stupid one as well. The bronze eagle seemed to mock him, to stare straight through him and come to the same conclusion he already had.

He wasn't meant to be here.

Before he was the only one left and they would notice he was gone, Sirius turned around and hurried down the spiral staircase, the bronze eagle watching his back as he went until he was out of sight and free of the oppressive warmth of the riddles he would never be able to answer. By the time he reached the Entrance Hall he was practically sprinting. The courtyard, still accessible to him for at least another few minutes, offered him the respite he needed in the form of fresh air.

He stopped in the middle, hands on his knees and chest heaving, as he gulped in as much cool air as possible.

His parents would know soon. They would know that he didn't try hard enough to be a disappointment to them and ended up being a disappointment to himself.

They wouldn't mind Ravenclaw.

They could tell their friends that their son was clever and smart and destined to be a bright star in the Black family constellation.

They could tell the world whatever they wanted, but Sirius would still know the truth.

He was meant to be a Gryffindor.

"Are you going to pass out?"

A pale hand appeared in front of his face. The person snapped their fingers, moving closer to him until he was forced to stand back up to avoid being hit in the face.

She was a blip of a girl, with pale blonde hair that clashed horribly with the bright yellow trimming of her Hufflepuff tie and sweater. On each of her shoulders and on top of her head were the tiniest owls he had ever seen. She also, quite clearly, did not understand personal space when she stepped as close to him as possible and pressed her cold fingers into the side of his neck.

"Oi!"

"Just checking." She stepped back and folded her arms over her chest. "Sirius, right?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Mavis." She held out her hand, clearly indicating for him to shake it, but he was far too preoccupied with the owls handing off her like ornaments to do so. "Oh, right. They've been having a little trouble eating so I thought I would bring them inside for a few nights."

"Is that allowed?"

"I did help raise them," Mavis said, voice bordering on indignant as if he was supposed to know what on earth she was talking about. "Why are you out here?"

"None of your business," He snapped, feeling a touch of guilt when her eyebrows drew together in a tight line.

She made a noise at the back of her throat and looked around, large eyes reminding him very much of the owls. "Are you coming to meet the other boy?"

"What other boy?"

"The one with all the scars. I saw him when I was walking back from the Owlery."

"No. And no offense, I just came out here to clear my head and be alone, so if you could…"

"You know, saying no offense right before saying something offensive doesn't really help."

"You're incredibly annoying."

"So, why do you need to clear your head?" She asked completely ignoring the insult. Her left shoulder dipping down slightly as the owl moved closer to her hair. It pressed against her neck, leaving only a pair of large eyes and its clawed feet sticking out.

"You know you have poo on your arm, right?" Sirius said, desperately hoping that the odd girl would leave him be. She glanced down at the arm he gestured to, a pleasant smile on her face when she caught sight of it, like she was looking at a flower petal or a drop of rain and not a smear of owl shite.

"I guess I do. Are you upset about your house placement?"

"None of your business," He said again, frustration rising.

He didn't think it was too much to ask to be free from bloody birds for five measly little minutes, but apparently it just wasn't his night. Mavis stared at him, eyes moving over his face and looking at him in a manner very similar to the bronze eagle. But now, instead of one nosy bird, he had three, four if he included the bird-brained girl in front of him, staring at him.

After a moment, she finally relented, lips pursed. "Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

The glared at each other.

"Mr. Black, Miss Fawley, what are you doing out so late?"

"Sorry Professor Dumbledore, I was visiting the Owlery and noticed a few of the hatchlings were a bit peakish. Sirius was sending a letter home to tell them the good news of his Sorting and he stayed to talk to me while I finished up." The lie flowed from her as easily as water from a faucet and Sirius had to remind himself that it was in his best interest to play along. Even if it went against every fiber of his being, he nodded and tried not to look too guilty under Dumbledore's twinkling gaze.

The 'good' news.

What absolute and total bollocks.

There was nothing good about telling his parents that he was a Ravenclaw, nothing good that would come from it. He felt panic building deep in his gut. He had planned to go home in a blaze of glory, decked out in red and ready to fight with whoever about whatever. He wanted to be a blood-traitor to them, to be the subject of constant scorn and hate. Because he felt that way about them, with every single part of him, he hated who they were and what they stood for.

He wanted to be a disappointment to them.

Their greatest shame and worse nightmare.

And now, thanks to a stupid hat and his stupid self for being too stupid to push harder, he wasn't sure he would be a disappointment to them at all.

Even worse still, they might even find it within themselves to be proud just to spite him.

"Allow me to introduce you to your newest classmate," Dumbledore said, looking at Sirius longer than Mavis as he stepped to the side and revealed a boy, pale as the moon and covered in scars. "Remus Lupin."


	4. The Newcomer

Remus Lupin gripped his traveling cap close to his chest and tried very hard to not throw up from excitement all over his brand new Hogwarts uniform. The full moon was four days away, a fact that his mother had forced him to obsessively memorize alongside his letters and numbers and all manner of normal things, and he could feel the telltale signs of fatigue and nausea settling over him. But this time, it was made worse, or perhaps better, by the fact that he was actually looking forward to something for the first time since his first transformation.

It would be a fresh start, a step into something new and out of the confines of the four walls of his house, and he was practically buzzing with anticipation.

He counted down the days to when he would go to Hogwarts for the first time, and he was determined not to have anything ruin it for him.

Not even his parents incessant worrying, justified though it may be, could dampen his good mood.

He felt his mother shift next to him, clammy hand reaching down to grab his as his father stepped towards the fireplace, Floo powder glittering the floor beneath their feet. Remus wanted to ride the train. In fact, he wanted it more than he wanted anything in a long time, to feel just the slightest bit normal for at least a few days before the transformation. But his father refused, and his mother agreed with his father, and all Remus could do was count his blessings that he was able to go away to school at all as his family crowded around their sooty fireplace.

"Remember what I told you, Hope?" Lyall Lupin said, turning to look at his wife with his eyes wide. She was a muggle, and while she adapted extraordinarily well to the magical world around her, she always felt uncomfortable with the travel. She griped Remus' hand tighter as she nodded, face now a similar pallor as his. "Hogsmeade. Clear and loud."

Lyall stepped into the fireplace and turned around, hand clutched around the Floo powder, before he shouted their destination, threw the powder down, and disappeared in a burst of green flames.

"Best go next, Mum," Remus said, giving her hand a slight squeeze just as it started to shake.

She looked down at him, pale blue eyes wide as saucers, before she nodded and let go of him. She looked small in the large fireplace, even smaller still when she scooped up some Floo powder and held it aloft in a tightly clenched fist. She smiled at him nervously before she threw down the powder and disappeared like his father.

It was quiet once they were gone. They had only been there a few transformations, as their small family had come to measure time, but the wear and tear was already visible throughout the house. His parents would be able to live there longer with him gone, a blessing although he was certain neither of them would ever say it out loud.

Remus sighed and stepped into the fireplace, thin fingers grubbing around in the Floo pot. The sparkling powder stuck to his hand, filling the cracks and making him feel like he had gripped a handful of wet clay. He took one final look at their house, eyes zeroing in on the latest set of scratches he left on the wooden doorframes, before he threw the Floo powder down.

There was no sense in dwelling.

Not when what was waiting on the other side of the fireplace was something so wonderful.

"Hogsmeade!"

It was a pleasant traveling experience, as far as he was concerned, and he felt his face crack into a wide smile as he saw his house disappear from sight.

He spent far too much time staring at its walls to ever miss it.

His parents were waiting for him on the other side, matching expressions of forced positivity. Next to them, stood Albus Dumbledore. He was taller than Remus remembered, and dressed far more ostentatiously in a long robe of deep purple.

"Hello, Remus," Professor Dumbledore said, stepping away from his parents to greet him. "Welcome to Hogsmeade."

"Professor." It was the only word he could muster as a pit opened deep in his stomach as he looked around the small pub. It was closed for the night, as evidenced by the chairs upturned onto the tables and smell of fresh pine. Just to the right of his mother, he could see a broom sweeping the floor.

It was an empty bar, but it was the closest he had come to human civilization in what felt like years and he was not certain he could contain his near giddiness much longer, despite the fact that his transformation loomed.

Four days away.

He could feel it at the back of his mind, pressing, prodding, clawing, and scraping, but he pushed it aside and stepped away from the fireplace.

He still had four days to enjoy himself and he would enjoy himself again on the other side.

"I thought you might like to be sorted in front of your parents," Dumbledore said, pulling one arm from behind his back to waive his wand. A bar stool sprung to life and crawled over to them, its legs sounding very much like hooves on the wooden floor as it moved towards them. It came to a stop in front of him and Remus reluctantly sat down.

An old hat was set on top of his head only a moment later.

_"Interesting."_

Remus jumped at the sound, but stayed in his seat, folding his hands in his lap to try and fake the appearance of calm. He was not nervous for his house placement, as he truly and genuinely had no preference, but the idea that something as simple as a hat could see right into his very soul disturbed him greatly and made his hands shake.

_"No preference? That's uncommon."_

Remus kept his back straight and looked to his mother, happy to see that she was smiling at him in her most encouraging way. He didn't care what house he ended up in and neither would she. He just wanted to be sorted and to actually make it to the castle. He just wanted to be like the rest of the students. He had been pushed away from communities for the last several years, hidden away in the dark and made to fear something he couldn't control. But that had been his parent's choice and he refused to make the same one for himself.

_"Hufflepuff!"_

Professor Dumbledore smiled at him and pulled the hat off his head. "Hufflepuff. Wonderful fit, I think."

Remus had no preference, but as Dumbledore said it, it felt right in his mind and he smiled at his parents as he stood up from the bar stool. His mother enveloped him in a hug, rocking him back and forth as she pressed kisses to his cheeks.

"Yellow was always your color, Rem."

His father clapped him on the back, giving him a subtle squeeze as his mother continued to shower him with kisses.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, I think it best if you say you goodbyes here."

It was quick and bittersweet, even for Remus who was practically bubbling with excitement. When his mother was finally able to peel herself away from him, he saw that she was crying quite openly.

"I'll write you as soon as I can, mum," He assured her, thankful when he saw his father wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I promise."

"You'll write us after?" His father asked, panic about not being there to help him through his first transformation away from them quite clearly written all over his face.

"Of course."

"Well, then, I guess we'll see you at Christmas."

Remus tried not show his parents how happy he was to be coming to school, as he didn't want to think that he was excited to get away from them, but he thought they got the hint well enough. They gave him one more smile, tinged with apprehension and fear, before they stepped back into the fireplace, were engulfed in green flames, and left him alone with Professor Dumbledore.

"Shall we?"

"Yes," Remus said, following Dumbledore as he led him out of the empty bar.

Hogsmeade was completely empty except for the two of them, but it gave Dumbledore the time to tell Remus how his transformations would work while at Hogwarts. He wished he could say that he paid attention fully, that he absorbed ever single word like he was probably meant to, but he could only focus on the view of the castle peeking out over the trees. It was glowing, so warm and inviting, and Remus had to stop himself from running towards it.

But he resisted the strong urge and kept a metered pace next to Dumbledore, taking in the sights as they got closer to the castle with his enthusiasm buried deep beneath the surface.

"None of your business."

Remus and Dumbledore stepped into a large courtyard and right in the middle of a conversation already ongoing. The boy, tall and lanky and sporting a mop of black curls, had his arms crossed over his chest as she glared at the short girl in front of him.

"Fine," The girl said, leaning back with a very displeased look on her face. He took notice of the yellow trim on her clothes first, heart rate increasing rapidly when he realized she was one of his new housemates.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"What do you say we see all the ruckus is about," Dumbledore said, peering down at Remus with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

All Remus could do was nod, too disarmed by the idea of interacting with people his own age for the first time in years. He smoothed his hands over his clothes and tried to look as normal as he could before either of them noticed him standing there. It was already bad enough that he wasn't able to be sorted with the rest of the classmates, it would not do well for him to be weird on top of that.

Not that he thought he was likely to be the weirdest amongst them, considering the short girl was currently covered in little owls and speckled with bird poo.

"Mr. Black, Miss Fawley, what are you doing out so late?"

The pair of them turned in tandem, each just now noticing that they had an audience for the first time.

The girl recovered from the shock quicker and plastered an obviously fake smile on her face. "Sorry Professor Dumbledore, I was visiting the Owlery and noticed a few of the hatchlings were a bit peakish. Sirius was sending a letter home to tell them the good news of his Sorting and he stayed to talk to me while I finished up."

"Allow me to introduce you to your newest classmate," Dumbledore stepped to the side so that Remus could see them even more clearly. "Remus Lupin."

At the sight of him, the girl moved towards them, a smile on her face. The little owls clinging to her for dear life gripping harder at the sudden change in direction and speed.

"Hello, Remus. My name is Mavis," She said, thrusting her hand out for him to shake. The boy lingered behind her, foul expression only lessening when Remus glanced at him over her shoulder. Dumbledore, ever watchful, smiled when Remus made eye contact with him.

"Hello."

"You're welsh," She said, moving even closer to him. He hardly thought he could be considered welsh anymore, seeing as how his family had lived every but Wales in the last few years, but he still bore the accent quite heavily. "And you're a Hufflepuff. Sirius, come say hello."

The boy, Sirius, glowered at the back of her head when she wasn't looking, but walked forward all the same, clearly unwilling to be so uncooperative in front of their Headmaster.

"'Lo."

"Perhaps you would be willing to show Mr. Lupin the Hufflepuff dormitory before you're out past curfew," Dumbledore said, causing Mavis to take on a suitably chagrined expression. Although, upon further inspection, Remus could see that it didn't really reach her eyes.

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore."

"And Mr. Black, back to Ravenclaw tower with you."

Sirius paled, but nodded, looking down at his feet.

Mavis looped her arm through Remus', surprising him with the familiarity of the gesture after so little time. But he did not pull back, thankful that the first person he met did not recoil like his parents acted like they would. Instead, she leaned closer to him as she led him back into the castle, dropping her voice to speak in a conspiratorial manner. "I know we're supposed to go to the dorm, but you look like you could use a good meal."

"My stuff…" Remus started, watching as Sirius started up the stairs.

"Probably already in the dorm. Now come on, my dad told me how to get into the kitchens." She pulled on his arm harder, steering him towards a staircase that led down into the deeper parts of the castle.

Perhaps he was not wrong to think of this as a fresh start.

At the very least, he had managed to speak to two people his own age and not send them running for cover. Of course, the girl currently chattering away in his ear had no idea she was arm and arm with a werewolf, but she did not physically flinch at the mere sight of him like he assumed she would. It was a first step, a giant leap in fact, and Remus could not find it within himself to be anything but excited.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is going to be a pretty serious AU that explores how the story would change if James Potter were sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. All the Mauraders will be heavily featured, as well as Snape and Lily, and a few key characters of my own, so I hope this piques your interest!


End file.
